


The Way To A Man's Heart

by jaekayelle



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 21:36:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17650313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaekayelle/pseuds/jaekayelle
Summary: Many successful relationships begin with a meal.





	The Way To A Man's Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: MGM owns the characters. No profits made from this work of fiction.
> 
> Written and posted in 2008 to the McSmooch community on LiveJournal.

As far as getting to know your new trading partner parties went, this was one of the better ones. There was plenty of laughter and lively music, which Teyla and Ronon, in particular, seemed to appreciate. John watched as his teammates swung each other around in increasingly sloppier circles, and then split off to have the same done to them by the nearest Rakaisans. Their lack of reserve might have had something to do with the potent ale brewed in this settlement. John swallowed another third of his tankard of the drink and smacked his lips. At the sound Rodney glanced up and grinned around a mouthful of the roasted fowl that, while alive, looked like a goose but actually tasted like chicken. They’d made sure to include that in the trade agreement. His mouth watering, John reached under Rodney’s arm and stole some of it off his plate.

Rodney didn’t seem too put out and the squawk of indignation was probably just for show. In fact, he held out his plate to John and offered him more. Since he had finished his own and was too full and lazy to go all the way over to the serving table for more, John had no problem accepting the gift. It was a gift from Rodney who rarely shared food, unless they were trapped somewhere and starving and he had the last power bar. John plucked the succulent white meat from the plate and tipped his head back before popping it into his mouth. His eyes closed at the moist fire-seared taste with the hint of seasoning. It was almost as good as the last beach barbecue in California before he came to Pegasus. 

His blue eyes were almost all pupil now as they tracked down from John’s face to his throat and chest. Self-conscious, John resisted the urge to pat himself down to see if he’d dripped grease on his t-shirt or something. 

“What?”

Rodney jerked his gaze back to his plate.

“Um. Nothing.” Then: “Oh! You should try some of this fruit.” He held out something that looked vaguely like a mandarin orange segment, only with a rind like a regular orange and it was light green.

“You sure that’s safe?” John asked. “It could be citrus.”

“S’not.” Rodney shook his head, his mouth full again. “Teyla tried it earlier and assured me there’s no citrus. Besides, I’ve been eating it off and on for the last half hour and I haven’t had a reaction. See?” He shoved the quarter of fruit to his mouth and sucked. 

John found he had a definite reaction of his own but it had nothing to do with allergies. He leaned forward at the table to hide the evidence. 

“That good, huh?”

“Yup.” Rodney’s grin was so full of delight that John was unable to focus on anything except that little trickle of juice running down Rodney’s chin. Then the pink tip of Rodney’s tongue darted out to swipe at the juice. He missed, of course, but John’s heart rate accelerated by at least 2Gs. 

He watched as the droplet of juice poised on Rodney’s jawbone to either fall to his shirt or run down his throat. Silently, John tried willing it to continue its course along the pale skin. It hung there, glistening in the firelight, quivering indecisively. 

And then it caught and trickled over the edge to run the wrong way and out of sight. 

Disappointed John frowned at the stupid droplet for spoiling his fascination. But then Rodney fumbled another piece of the fruit and tilted his head back to catch it against his chin, and then manoeuvre it into his mouth for a repeat performance of the sucking part of the program. The noises he was making were nearly obscene. 

“Holy…” John breathed. 

“Hmm?” Rodney asked, even more juice squirting out of the corner of his mouth to travel downwards.

“Tastes good?” John asked, unconsciously leaning forward.

“Mmm hmm!”

“Can I have a…taste?”

“Shurr!” Chewing rapidly Rodney glanced around for another segment of the fruit, but before he could locate any of it John slid across the ten inches or so of wooden bench between them and fetched up against Rodney, his thigh hard against Rodney's knee, feeling the heat seep through the material of their pants. He shifted again to change the angle of how he was sitting, pulling one leg up and over the back of the bench so that he could face Rodney, who was seated the same way, and his legs could close around the one of Rodney’s that was closest. He dropped his hand to rest it on the muscular thigh and slowly slid it upward stroking down again toward the knee, which was so conveniently nestled in a very comfortable spot between John’s legs. 

Rodney glanced down at the John’s splayed fingers, and then at where his knee snugged up against John’s groin. He had to notice how interested John was by the way they were positioned.

Then he looked up.

“I – oh, you. Okay.”

“Just a taste, Rodney,” John whispered, leaning forward again. Long golden lashes fluttered over darkened blue eyes.

“Mmm.”

“Yeah.”

Rodney set down the food, wiped his palms and sticky fingers on his shirt and reached for John, claiming a grip on the front of his t-shirt that probably wasn’t going to relent any time soon and John wouldn’t have it any other way. Their lips met with soft, wet touches and inquiring nibbles. John flicked his tongue out to venture into the welcoming heat, savouring the sweetness of the fruit, the spices of the close-enough-to-chicken and the matchless flavour of Rodney McKay.

He pulled back to get a good look at Rodney's reaction. "This okay?"

"Yes! Do you hear me complaining? Get back here!" Rodney yanked hard and John just went with it, falling into Rodney's arms and letting him have his way. 

Really, did anyone hear John complaining either? He'd waited too long for this. He wasn't about to give it up now. Not ever. 

# end


End file.
